Reckless Side of Me
by Aeilyn Montgomery
Summary: When John Cena makes a new friend at a Make-A-Wish Foundation event, he assumes that she will only be making a difference in his life. But who would guess that a pregnant young woman could have such a strong effect, especially on a WWE champion notorious for being hostile to fans? Can she help a champion putting his career at risk with his dangerous and volatile temper? CM Punk/OC
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my first attempt ever at a wrestling fanfic, so please let me know how I'm doing, 'k? I've had this idea rattling around in my head for a while, so any feedback that you can give me would be greatly appreciated. I want this to be fun to write, but if no one's reading it, then what's the point? Anyways, here goes!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything WWE or brand-name related.

_There's two angels sitting on my shoulder; all they ever do is disagree One sits on the side of rhyme and reason, the other on the reckless side of me._

Chapter 1:

"10 minutes everyone!" The shouts echoed across the banquet hall, as people rushed around frantically putting up the finishing touches on decorations and posters. Streamers hung from the ceiling in waves, and color was splashed all over the walls. The Make-a-Wish Foundation always tried its best to make the venue inviting for children and welcoming for their families. Today was no exception, and they were going to have a special guest of honor - John Cena, and he was scheduled to arrive any minute. Finally the superstar had a couple of days to participate in another event, and grant even more wishes for children who adored him.

Right on time, John Cena walked through the doors into the hall and was promptly greeted by Martha, the event organizer. With a brisk handshake and greeting, he was quickly whisked into the room. A scene of laughter and rushing bodies greeted him. It stopped briefly when the volunteers and workers saw him, but he was used to being a show stopper. After all, he was John Cena, the face of the WWE.

Within a few minutes, he was updated on the children he would be meeting, the schedule for the day, and any other information Martha deemed it necessary that he know. She had been doing this for years, and knew exactly how to keep the function running as a well-oiled machine. Just as the last details were added and paper work sorted the day started, and John was surrounded by photographers and their cameras, workers, families, children, laughter, screaming and shouting. The time flew quickly; Martha was an expert organizer and everything went off without a hitch. He loved the look on the faces of children who had asked to see him as their wish, and the opportunity to talk to them and learn their stories. Sometimes being in the WWE was exhausting, but at moments like this, he was proud to call himself a superstar and he was thankful for the ability to make a difference in these children's lives.

After a long morning (that seemed to last only an hour), the last of the guests were cleared out, and lunch was brought in for the volunteers. Without fail, John was quickly surrounded by a number of the female workers and volunteers, offering him food and drink and unsuccessfully trying to surreptitiously flirt with him. After rejecting the seventh offer of a refill on his drink, and if he would like another homemade cookie, his mind began to wander away from the discussions around him. However, in the midst of their small-chat and giggles, the talk quickly turned to gossip.

"It's such a _shame_ about what happened to Linda; she loves working on these events." The brunette with perfectly styled waves shook her head and sipped her coffee. Her name was something that began with a P... Patty, maybe? John couldn't remember. He was only half-listening anyway.

"And she's such an _expert_ at them. Been doing this for years." This speaker was blond with a ponytail.

"I've warned her about being careful about those stairs up to her house. They're awfully steep, even for someone half her age." Another blond. This one with a plunging neckline that could only be attributed to a volunteer out to catch some attention. She certainly hadn't worn that for the children, it was only barely appropriate for them. This one's name was Cindy, he remembered hers. She had been following him around most of the day.

"What's really surprising," (this was Patty again) "is who they got to replace her. Jessie hasn't been volunteering with us for very long, and she's never done an event before. Though I suppose she does need the distraction..."

"Oh, but Jessie is such a sweetheart!" A new one this time, with bobbed black hair and black-rimmed glasses interrupted reproachfully. "It's really not her fault that she's in the _situation_ she is now."

Cena looked idly over to where they were glancing. Another young woman was sitting behind a table writing some paperwork. She had long auburn hair pinned back into a ponytail. He couldn't tell much more; she was looking down and her face was obscured.

Cindy noticed him looking. "Oh, you're looking at Jessie?" She was cooing slightly, and it made him uncomfortable. Women had been coming on to him for a long time, but ever since word of his filing for divorce had hit the news, it had only gotten worse. It didn't matter that he and Liz were trying now to work out their problems. It seemed like ever since doubt had been cast on their marriage, all women took that as a sign it could be broken.

"She's one of the newest volunteers. She has quite a tragic story herself, you know! We think that's why she's chosen to work with these specific children." Cindy seemed to be quite pleased with herself, at having John Cena's complete attention. "She just joined a couple of months ago, right after her fiancé passed. And if _that_ tragedy wasn't enough, would you know it, she's pregnant with his baby."

_"Why is this woman talking about her business like this?"_ was the only thing running through John's mind, but he nodded and made the appropriate response, or at least he thought he did. He looked up again, and his baby-blue eyes met a pair of hazel ones. That girl was looking right at him. She must have noticed the embarrassment on his face, because she looked a little confused. Until... she noticed the women standing around him. Then, the confusion turned into something resembling exasperation. He saw her push the chair back, stand up, and walk towards them.

He noticed the other women fall awkwardly quiet for a moment, as they noticed her. And one by one, they each tittered something about having things to do, and then scattered. His thoughts were interrupted by a calm "Hello."

He was being confronted by the slim redhead that the women were talking about a few minutes ago. Well... she was slim, except for the bump that was beginning to show beneath her clothes. He would guess that she was, perhaps, 5 months pregnant? But again, his thoughts were interrupted by the woman holding out a small hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Jessie Evans."

John stretched out a huge one, that easily engulfed hers. "John Cena." He paused, and then continued. "So... you're a new volunteer, then?"

Jessie smiled cheerfully. "Yup! One of the regulars managed to fall up some stairs and break her hip, so they called me in as a replacement." She paused. "On second thought, I probably shouldn't sound so happy about that. It's a such a shame, or something like that." (John couldn't help thinking that she really wasn't sorry at all.) Her voice suddenly switched back to cheerful again. "I've only been involved with Make a Wish for 2 months, so it was quite a shock when I was called in. Though I'm sure you've heard something about that already."

"What gives you that impression?"

She laughed. "Cindy and Paula" (_That _was her name. Paula. Not Patty.) "are notoriously some of the biggest gossipers among the volunteers. They also have quite stiff ideas about how things should be done. You should hear what they say about Martha." A sly smile graced her face. "Or were you not listening that closely to what they were saying?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Were you watching us?"

It was her turn to look surprised, and then a little repentant. "Yeah, I suppose I was." She shrugged. "It's hard not to pay attention to the famous John Cena when he's in a room. Besides, you're a delight to watch when you're with children. You're quite good with them."

"Lots of practice. You'll pick it up quickly the more you do it." He unconsciously glanced again at her belly, and then internally berated himself. She hadn't actually told him that she was expecting, and here he was, talking about her pregnancy which, if the other women were correct, wasn't an ideal situation.

"Oh, so they told you about that, as well?" Jessie put her hands on her hips and frowned slightly. "They certainly don't waste any time, do they?" Just as quickly as the shadow came, it passed from her face. "Well, it's true, I assume that I'll pick it up as I go along. I hope so though, or I'm going to be a lousy mother." She laughed at herself. "There are already so many ways a kid can go wrong. I'm the perfect example!" Jessie grinned, then glanced down at a silver watch on her wrist.

"Oh, god, I'm keeping you. If I'm remembering right, Martha said you needed to be out of here by 2, and it's already a quarter 'till." She looked back up at him, flashed a bright smile, and stuck out her hand again. "It was a pleasure to meet you John Cena," she said. "I've been a fan of WWE for a while, so meeting you was quite a nice surprise."

John nodded, shook her hand again, being careful not to squeeze her slim fingers engulfed in his big ones. "It has been. I'm sorry I can't chat any longer, my schedule is full today." He had training he needed to do, as well as work on some paperwork, check in to his hotel, get dinner, and sleep. Tomorrow was another house show, and he needed to have everything ready. He was catching a flight early to meet up with the other superstars, but he was alone in this city for the night, and really had no one to keep him company. Things weren't going well with Liz at home; the "patch" for their marriage really wasn't holding up, and the two of them were fighting constantly. It would be nice to have some companionship for dinner, at least...

And right then, before he knew what he was saying, WWE superstar John Cena asked Jessie Evans if she would like to go to dinner with him.

Jessie's response was stunned silence for a moment, which turned to skepticism, which then turned into a look of bemusement. "Well, I mean... I'm not sure that... I would love to, but... it'd be a little strange... especially since I'm a volunteer..."

John smiled as he watched her fumble for an answer. Jessie seemed sweet, but she was also probably about 10 his junior. Too big of an age gap for his taste and, if he was going to be honest with himself, he'd about had it with relationships for a while. "Just as some company?" He tilted his head slightly, and gave her the full force of a John Cena smile.

Jessie sighed. How could she say no to that? "Oh, I suppose. It's not like I have anything else going on..." That second part was an afterthought.

John grinned. "Great. I'll get you at 6:30?"

At that, Jessie shook her head. "You're going to be busy all day, right? How about I pick you up and decide where we go. Let a native make that decision."

John looked surprised at first, and then shrugged. "Fine with me. I'm staying at the Hilton. Just ask for me at the desk, and I'll have them call my room."

"Great! 6:30 it is." Jessie smiled again. "Oh, by the way. Try not to worry about the looks those women are shooting you right now." Her smiled widened. "I'm sure they'll get over the disappointment soon enough."

John looked over a circle of women who were staring at them in disbelief. A not-so-quiet whisper reached his ears, as someone hissed, "He asked the _pregnant_ girl out for dinner? It must be a pity date..." before someone else shushed her. John looked back at Jessie.

"I think you should be the one not worrying about their looks," he said. She must have heard the voice as well. "I think it'd be more upsetting to you than to me."

"Nah." The redhead snorted. "The jealousy of neglected housewives doesn't really bother me. And those are the most notorious gossips in this part of the organization. Really, they're only happy when there's something new and juicy to talk about. Today that happens to be me. Quite frankly, they should be paying _me_ for the entertainment I'm providing _them_." She paused thoughtfully. "Besides, being pregnant makes people treat you really differently anyway. I seem to be getting lots of huge smiles from other women these days, and every once in a while someone sticks their ear to my stomach. You'd think that having a baby automatically signs you up for some weird club where it's acceptable to just shove your face against someone..." Jessie made a face. "It's upsetting."

John laughed. "Thankfully I'll never know. See you later tonight, then?"

"Yup! 7 o'clock sharp!" Jessie held up 7 fingers.

"Wait..." John was confused.

"Kidding! I know it's 6:30. You're running late, you know, you'd better head out. Bye!" And with that, she turned around, plopped herself back behind the table she was at earlier, and went back to working on paperwork.

John smiled inwardly as he left the convention center. At least dinner wouldn't be quiet anymore. He smiled at the other women as he left, and followed Jessie's advice, completely ignoring the affronted looks they were shooting him.

Jessie tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering-wheel as she waited for the light to turn green. She wasn't running late, in fact she was early, but she was nervous. She had managed to laugh off the meeting and the invitation to dinner for the rest of the work day, but now that she was alone and it was almost 6:30, anxiety was starting to bubble up. To amuse herself, she imagined what her friends would say - but all she could come up with was their lecturing her on how anxiety was bad for the baby.

She glanced down at her stomach. "Miracle of life, huh..." she mused to herself quietly. If anything, having a baby was like getting a second job. Dieting, sleeping well, doctor's appointments, classes, avoiding stress... She might as well have taken up a sport. Except, instead of gaining muscle, she was gaining baby. It was times like these that she wondered why on earth she had ever agreed to have sex with someone in the first place.

But, her musing had done the trick. She had reached the Hilton at precisely 6:30, and had managed to distract herself from her nerves. Hopping out of her car, she walked inside the doors into the lobby. The doors whirred open softly in front of her, and she stepped on to the carpet. As she walked towards the front desk she looked around curiously. The lobby was covered beautiful tile and then lush carpet further on, with a fireplace and sofas surrounding it. "Ritzy place" was her first thought.

Reaching the desk, she smiled kindly at the man sitting behind it - who eyed the redhead standing in jeans and a sweater in front of him with skepticism.

"May I help you?"

"Jessie Evans?" She said her name like a question. "I'm here to pick up Mr. John Cena." The receptionist looked down at his desk.

"Ah, I see that you're expected. One moment please, Mrs. Evans." He picked up the receiver and dialed the number to John's room.

Jessie sighed inwardly. She wasn't a Mrs. Evans by any means. She was still very solidly a Ms. Evans. Though either of those titles struck her as weird. She was very informal, even opting to neglect her given name Jessica in favor of the more relaxed "Jessie."

After a minute, she heard footsteps behind her and turned around. "Mr. Cena! It's nice to see you again so soon."

"John," John found himself saying as he approached Jessie. "People rarely call me Mr. Cena."

He smiled at his dinner date for the evening, and took the opportunity to actually examine her. Jessie was wearing a nice pair of blue jeans, flat, soft brown knee-high boots, and a deep green sweater which complimented her auburn hair. If he could sum up her outfit in one word, it would be... comfortable. She looked very comfortable. He was glad that he hadn't decided to dress up; he was also wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket.

Jessie smiled brightly. "John it is! Well, let's go." She started walking, assuming that he would follow. "We're just headed off to a local restaurant, so we won't be going far. I figured I'd try to expose you to some local culture without immersing you enough that you get scared. Columbus can be a strange place. Growing all that corn does things to people."

John followed her out through the hotel doors and to the car parked in front of them. It was a teal Subaru Outback, and it beeped twice as she hit the button to unlock it. John opened up the passenger side and slid in, pushing the seat back as far as it would go to accommodate his size. At least he could fit in this vehicle; in the smaller ones, it was a struggle. He often felt unbearably cramped.

Jessie hopped in, started the engine, and pulled out of the carport and onto the road. John made some small talk with her, but the silence that fell between them at times was more comfortable than awkward. After about ten minutes, he saw Jessie flip on the turn signal and pull into a what looked to be a bar, named the Whey Pat. She parked the car, and then turned to him.

"We're here! This place has the best nachos in town. Seriously, they're god-like." Jessie opened the door to get out of her car, but paused for a moment and put a hand over her stomach. A flash of pain had shot through her belly, but she ignored it. Pregnancy did strange things to the body, and after craving peanut butter and nutella on chili for an entire month, she could accept that she would really never understand why her body reacted the way it did. It was just a passing thing anyway, nothing to be concerned about.

Without noticing anything, John followed her out of the car. "Nachos, huh? Sounds good to me. But will you let me buy you a drink? Just as a thank you for the ride and choosing the place to eat, of course." As soon as the words left his mouth he felt like an idiot. Of course she couldn't drink, she was pregnant. Any second now she was going to have to awkwardly explain... His thoughts were interrupted by a light smack on his shoulder.

"Sure, I'd love a drink." Jessie was grinning at him. "Root beer is my favorite."

Three hours later, John Cena was back in his hotel room at the Hilton, and just hanging up on a very tearful Liz. He'd told her about the dinner out with Jessie, and the already tense conversation had just gotten worse. The conversation about dinner led to Liz's bringing up old accusations of when she'd suspected him of being unfaithful, and then led to harsh words being said. By the end of the conversation his wife was crying, and he was feeling aggravated and tired. This was just the sort of thing he hadn't been able to deal with before; her severe insecurity and her refusal to believe him when he promised that he'd been faithful to her. She seemed determined to think the worst of him, and of course it didn't help that WWE divas were extremely beautiful women. Most of their conversations ended in fights these days, and even when they didn't, he wasn't happier having heard from her. He just felt emotionally drained, which could only distract him in the ring.

John found his thoughts wandering as he climbed into the shower. After remembering the events of the day, his thoughts turned to Jessie. At dinner he'd gotten to know her quite a bit more; and had enjoyed every minute of it. Her cheerful disposition and easy-going manner were what attracted him to her. She hadn't flirted with him and she hadn't treated him as anything more than a human being, which is what he needed right now. He just needed someone to spend time with and relax around, without feeling pressured one way or another. He didn't want to feel like he was betraying Liz by spending time with another woman, but at the same time, he didn't want to even think about Liz at all. Really, meeting Jessie had been a blessing. She had been just the thing he needed after a busy and stressful day. Or, really, a busy and stressful last 2 months.

As the hot water poured over his tired body, he ruefully also thought that it was, sadly, a good thing he was leaving Columbus in the morning. If he wasn't careful, he would end up spending much more time with Jessie Evans than he should, and that would really get people talking. Liz's already heavy suspicions would turn into more serious accusations, and if the media got wind of it... It would be a publicity nightmare for the WWE, and for Jessie as well. From what he'd gathered, the woman had her own problems - he didn't need to be one of them. Meeting her had been one of the highlights of his trip, and he would be sure to look her up again if he was ever in the area. He wanted to keep her friendship if he could, but it was definitely time for him to go. He could easily chalk the past evening up to loneliness... But if he was being honest with himself, he really wanted to see her again. Soon.

End of Chapter 1.

Well, there's the first part everybody! I hope that you enjoyed it and, as I said, feedback is really welcome. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you very much to the people who have reviewed and decided to follow this story; I really appreciate it. I'm glad that people are enjoying it! So here's Chapter 2, I'm going to try to post about one every week. As always, please read and review!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing WWE.

_I've been known to gamble on a long shot, leave my better judgment on the rocks_. _When it comes to takin' sides or takin' chances, there's a part of me that didn't come to talk._

Chapter 2:

John flipped through a magazine on the plane, idly glancing out the window every so often. With the plane above the clouds, the sky outside of the window was a flawless powder-blue, and the sun reflected off the clouds below. The flight wasn't very long, Columbus to Miami, but it was still a significant chunk of the day. He would arrive in Miami a few hours before he needed to be at the arena, which would give him time to eat and warm up, and then the show would be starting. As he looked back down at the magazine, an advertisement for clothing caught his eye - the model was a redhead. That sent his thoughts back to Jessie. He wondered whether she would be watching the show that night, she said she'd been a fan of WWE for a while and that she followed Raw religiously.

He didn't know how he would see her again, or if he ever would. His inclination at the moment was to call up a friend, pull some strings, and get her a free ticket to whichever show she wanted. Hell, he was tempted to get her a free flight to Raw that for that night. Mentally he ticked off the upcoming shows. Miami, Charleston, Boston, New York... they were working their way up the East Coast. The closest show to her, then, would be Boston - and that wasn't for another 3 weeks. He wondered if she would even care by then that she had met John Cena, or if she would be able to make it to a show that far away. Could he reasonably expect her to drop her life anyway and make the trip to Boston for a show where he would barely even be able to talk to her? There were too many questions and not enough answers. Then again, the only way to answer any of them would be to just ask her.

As the seatbelt light came on, John's thoughts turned to other things. It wouldn't be until after the show that night that he would remember his plans to call Jessie.

XXXXX

Jessie laughed at Daniel Bryan and Kane on the screen, and then winced slightly at the choke slam Daniel Bryan received. Kane's music came on, and he stalked out of the ring. Monday night Raw - the highlight of her week. Which was silly, considering it was at the beginning...

Jessie decided to ignore that train of thought. She put down her plate and fork on the coffee table in front of her, and sighed as she turned and stretched her legs out on the couch. Her apartment was comfortable, if not luxurious. Hell, she knew that she was pretty close to broke. Without someone else helping her to pay rent... But she just couldn't bring herself to get a new roommate. She only had one bedroom anyway. And the thought of having anyone there with her besides Noah was painful.

She turned back to the TV as a familiar sound came on, and there he was - John Cena. A little shock of pleasure ran through her as she saw him again, and she smiled at the screen. Meeting and going out to dinner with him almost felt like a dream sometimes. He had been such a kind, genuine person, and getting to know him had been great fun. Certainly much better than her usual boring life - work, eat, doctor's appointments, sleep. In that order. Oh, and she had forgotten the numerous calls she received every day from well-wishers checking in on her. Really, having nosy neighbors was a pain in the ass. Jessie knew they were only trying to be helpful, but after the fourth offer of a casserole for dinner and the hundredth piece of advice about how worrying and being sad wasn't good for the baby, she was about ready to tear the phone out of the wall. She was pregnant, not dying, and she certainly wasn't an invalid. As her temper flared for a minute she reminded herself:

"Negative feelings aren't good for the baby." Then promptly added "Horseshit." Before turning back to Raw.

The last segment of the show was between John Cena and CM Punk. It was the usual: Cena charging Punk with being cowardly and not deserving respect, Punk being as heel-ish as possible and demanding his right as the champion, all with Paul Heyman looking aloof and superior in the background.

Punk had always been one of Jessie's favorite wrestlers. At first it had been, well, because he was attractive. But then she had started really watching - and she was impressed both by his wrestling skills and his presence. What she enjoyed most though, were his promos. Whenever he had that microphone and really spoke, she would just get carried away listening to his voice. He was by far her favorite orator on the show - and he never failed to produce.

She sighed to herself as the segment ended, and Raw closed. Nothing very exciting tonight; just a challenge for next week. Getting off of the couch, Jessie walked slowly into her kitchen, placed her dishes in the sink, and went to get ready for bed. She had work in the morning.

XXXXX

"Great job everyone!" AJ called out to the Superstars backstage. John returned the compliment, then headed off to the locker room. The show had gone off without a hitch, and now he was tired. He had 2 missed calls on his cell from his wife - God only knew what they were about. He wasn't looking forward to finding out.

It was the thinking about his phone that did it: Jessie. He had forgotten about calling her. As he hit the locker room, he glanced up at the clock on the wall. 11:45 PM. It was late, but if she had watched the show, then maybe she was still awake...

The door opened behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. CM Punk had walked in, and was heading over to grab a towel.

"Nice job tonight, Punk." His deep voice broke the silence in the room. "Your match with Sheamus was kick-ass." The Superstars found it easier to call each other by their stage names, even while they were in private. It helped ensure that they didn't slip up in front of the fans.

"Yeah, it went fine. His clotheslines were off tonight, though." Punk's reply was curt. He hadn't been in a very good mood for the last week or so. Ever since the controversy about him attacking a fan had come out, he had been in hot water with the WWE. Wrestlers were an investment and when one, especially someone as well-known as CM Punk, made such a huge error as punching a spectator, there were bound to be repercussions. Luckily he had avoided a fine, but he had gotten a strict talking-to. He wasn't happy about it. As far as he was concerned, he had been completely justified in standing up for himself. And it also didn't help that he didn't give a damn about the fans. They kept him employed so he would deal with them, but that didn't mean he had to like them.

Punk ignored John again after responding, and John pulled out his phone. Unlocking it, he pulled up a contact, and hit send. After a few rings, the other person answered. He was rewarded with a groggy sounding,

"_Hello?"_

"Jessie? Did I wake up you up? I'm sorry, I'll call back some other time." John was mentally kicking himself for disturbing her.

_"Don't worry about it, I'm up now. Had to pee soon anyway. I swear having a baby means your bladder shrinks to the size of a walnut. What's up?"_ Jessie winced after she said that and smacked her head off the pillow. She had just told a WWE Superstar she was going to pee. How embarrassing.

John laughed at her. "Seriously, it wasn't important. I was just checking in to see how you're doing."

_"Since I haven't seen you in so long."_

He knew she was teasing, but he also felt a little guilty. She was right, they had just spoken yesterday, and now here he was calling her up again. Before calling his wife, even. The bad feeling just got worse.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry, this was a stupid idea-"

_"Like I said, no worries."_ She interrupted him. She could hear him growing uncomfortable and decided to nip it in the bud with a distraction. _"I'm doing well. The show was great tonight, by the way. Unfortunately I have no one to show off to that I know the great John Cena. So I had to brag to my dinner. It wasn't as impressed as I would have liked."_

John grinned. He didn't notice as Punk turned around and gave him a look. The WWE Champion was curious - who was Cena talking to? He never sounded like that when he called his wife anymore.

"Thanks. But it's probably a good thing there's no one to tell about this..." John frowned slightly. Although he just wanted to go with his gut and enjoy himself, if word got out about him going to dinner with a woman that wasn't his wife and that he was calling her after shows, the press would have a field day.

"_Feeling anxious?"_ Jessie's voice turned serious. _"I understand. You're in a tricky position. What would help you feel better?"_

Just like that, Jessie fixed it. She hadn't demanded anything of him, hadn't gotten defensive, and hadn't tried to force him into anything. Instead she had asked about his feelings - Liz could take some lessons about that. Of course if he ever mentioned it, she would probably throw a fit.

"Eh, nothing. It's fine." He tried to sound more reassuring. "Thanks for asking, though." Deep breath, time to be honest. "I was just calling to ask if you were planning to come to any shows any time soon?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. As the seconds ticked by, the feelings of guilt and awkwardness grew in the pit of his stomach until he felt queasy. He'd definitely overstepped his bounds this time, Jessie probably had gotten the wrong idea from that question. Though realistically, what should she think? Here he was, calling her up out of the blue after spending time with her and basically asking when he could see her again. She probably thought that he was just using her to stop worrying about his relationship with this wife-

_"I'm afraid..."_ There was a pause. _"I don't really have much of a disposable income right now, John, and coming to a show would require taking off work and some pretty hefty expenses..."_ Jessie finally sat up in bed. The truth was, she wanted to go. Badly. Seeing Raw live would be great, and she would especially enjoy seeing John again. But she just couldn't afford it.

"I could get you complimentary tickets?" John offered. He heard her sigh.

_"I'm not going to take your charity, John. I don't need you paying my way for anything. Thank you for the offer, I really do appreciate it. And you know that I would love to come. But it's just not feasible right now, I'm sorry. Maybe in a month or so, after I get my next paycheck I can take a look and see. But it's just not going to work out otherwise. All right?"_

Her voice was kind, but firm. She didn't leave any room for argument. He had to admit, he was disappointed. But he also understood how she felt and her decision. While talking at dinner he had noticed that she was very independent and rather stubborn. Thinking back, he should have realized that that would be her answer. He felt bad for asking.

"Sure, I understand. Listen, sorry for bringing it up. Just let me know if you're ever going to be in town with us. I can at least make sure you get good seats. One of the perks that comes with the job."

Jessie laughed. _"One of the perks, huh? Somehow I think there are more than that. But sounds good. Feel free to drop me a line every now and then, though. Your life is much more interesting than mine, I'd like to hear all about it."_

"Deal." His smile this time was a full John Cena smile, the kind that made women in the audience stare at him with longing eyes. "I'll let you get back to sleeping."

_"Thanks. Take care, John."_ Jessie paused for a moment, before adding as an afterthought. _"Be careful."_

"You're becoming a mom already." He chuckled as he heard her snort and then grumble on the other end of the line. "Later, Jessie."

_"Bye."_

There was a click, and then she was gone. He looked at his phone for a moment, watching the blinking screen that read how long the call had been. Just like that, she was gone again. He couldn't quite figure out why talking to her made him feel so much better about things, or why it took the sting out of dealing with his personal life. He wondered if maybe, in some way, it was because she was like him. She was in a situation that she didn't want, and she had to learn how to deal and make the best of it. Just like him. He just had to learn how to make the best out of being married to a woman he didn't love anymore, and who he couldn't divorce because of his career. He quickly changed into more comfortable clothes, grabbed his bag, lifted a hand to Punk, and left the locker room.

Punk stared after him as he left. Jessie? Who was Jessie? He and Cena were friends well enough, or at least they usually were, but he hadn't heard of anyone by that name before. She wasn't close family as far as he could tell, Cena only had brothers. And she wasn't Liz, obviously. But that conversation had sounded like they were close.

He also finished changing, jeans and a t-shirt. As he grabbed his bag and walked slowly to his car, he let his mind wander. There had been rumors that Cena had cheated on Liz, and that was why there had been talk of a divorce... But then Liz had said she was caught off-guard by the whole ordeal. Was Jessie some sort of secret "friend"?

He decided to ignore it. He was going out to meet Kofi at a late-night burger joint as per usual, so what he really needed to focus on was finding the place.

XXXXX

A bell by the door rang as Punk walked in. How quaint. Miami was balmy and bustling, but one could still find some places out of the way to eat. Thankfully. All he needed was to run into a-

"Hey! Oh my god, it's CM Punk!"

Fan. All he needed was to run into a fan. Punk looked up at the girl and guy running up to him.

"We were at the show tonight! It's so lucky of us to run into you here!" The girl was gushing. "Oh my god, can we take a picture with you?" She was pulling out an iPhone.

He knew that he should just say yes and smile for the picture. He knew being a smart-ass wasn't going to help anyone, especially not himself. But he was tired, and he was cranky, and he was in a fucking foul mood. So instead of lying back and being the nice guy, he just raised an eyebrow and said, "What's the magic word?"

"Huh?" The girl stopped and stared at him. "The magic word?"

"Yes. The magic word." His arms were crossed and he stared her down.

"Uh... please?" The girl looked confused.

Damn. She had actually said it. He guessed that meant he would have to actually take this damn picture. And before he could even move, she was pressed up next to him, her arm around him, grinning for all the world like she'd won the lottery. As the other guy raised up the camera, Punk leaned away from her, and tried to... well, at least look like he didn't want to kill something.

Right after the picture was taken, Kofi walked in. So he was there to see when the guy walked up for his photo op. He was there to see when the guy made a smart comment about "Well, it's not John Cena, but I guess this he's good enough." He was there to see as the guy, instead of asking kindly or even just trying to take a normal picture, went to put CM Punk into a very poor imitation of a sleeper hold. And he was there to see the girl snap a picture of CM Punk throwing a man into a wall.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Punk shouted. "Who the hell gave you permission to do that? What, just because I'm on TV, do you think you can do whatever the fuck you want to me?"

Kofi stepped forward, grabbed Punk, and pulled him back. But he couldn't stop the girl and guy from grabbing their things and running out of the restaurant.

"This is bad, man." Kofi shook his head in worry. "That picture is going to be all over the internet tonight. The last thing you needed was more bad publicity with fans."

"Fuck, yeah, I know." Punk shrugged the other wrestler off and stalked over to a booth. A very scared looking waitress walked over and timidly asked if she could take their orders. When she had left, he turned back to Kofi. "I'm probably going to get suspended and threatened by McMahon again." He looked down at his fists.

"This might be it." Kofi was really worried. "You're going to get branded as difficult to work with and a danger to the public. This is seriously going to hurt-"

"I know!" Punk yelled, and then ran a hand over his face in frustration. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm just not having a great night. Can we just drop it?"

Kofi sighed and shook his head. "Sure. But you'd better get ready for what's coming."

XXXXX

When he got back to the hotel, Punk threw his bag on the floor and sat down on the bed for a moment. As pissed as he was about it, Kofi was right. He was in big trouble; he'd really done it this time. If the guy decided to press charges... 2 assault charges in 2 months? This was going to make headlines. He ran a hand over his mostly shaved head. Fuck. What could he do? He didn't want to get suspended, he didn't want to lose his contract, wrestling was his life. But he'd fucked up. There was nothing he could do about it. Unless...

The idea just came to him. Unless a bigger scandal happened that totally overrode this. Unless McMahon and the WWE universe were paying attention to something a lot more serious. Something like John Cena having an affair with someone and cheating on his wife.

Punk liked Cena well enough, they weren't best friends, and it wasn't anything personal - he just needed to save his own ass. And he had gotten a weird feeling about whoever Cena was talking to earlier that night. Some mystery woman.

Punk got up to head to the bathroom and shower. Yeah, he thought he'd found a way to get himself out of this one. But first, he had to find out who Jessie was.

XXXXX

End of chapter 2!

So, I hope you liked it. As always, please R&R. All input is greatly appreciated! And thanks to everyone reading. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Well, so far Chapter 2 has gotten some good responses. So let's get on with chapter 3!

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing WWE, etc.

_I've spent a lifetime listening to the whispers__, __always try to heed my second mind__. N__ever done nobody wrong on purpose, but I've come mighty close a couple times._

Chapter 3:

The alarm clock went off, making a horrible, shrieking beep. Jessie Evans groaned, reached over, and hit snooze before rolling onto her back and putting a pillow over her face. She had bought an alarm clock with the most obnoxious buzzer she could find, to hopefully break her habit of sleeping through alarms. While she had succeeded in finding something that made her want to claw her ears off, it still couldn't get her out of bed after the first ring.

After another 5 minutes of beautiful stillness, the alarm went off again. Jessie yawned and sat up, finally turning the clock off. 6:35 AM. It was obscenely early for anyone to be up and about. As she staggered to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth, she said out loud, "I suppose I should just be thankful for getting a full night's sleep. In 4 months, I won't be quite so lucky..." Jessie glanced down at her belly, with its noticeable bump. Her emotions were conflicting - nervousness, curiosity, anticipation... and not a little bit of bitterness. This baby was the last thing that she had of Noah, but having to raise a child alone, unmarried, and with a shitty job and little money wasn't going to be easy. Nothing so far had gone like she had planned. Sometimes, she thought it would just be easier to quit at everything, invest in some serious plastic surgery, and find some wealthy half-wit to marry her and take care of her for the rest of her life. But then she remembered she was pregnant. And had standards.

The shower succeeded in waking her up, and she toweled off her hair before pulling on clothes. Walking out to the kitchen, Jessie poured herself a cup of coffee. Leaning back against the counter and breathing in the fumes deeply, she let out a contented sigh. "Thank god for small favors..." she murmured to herself, before taking a sip. Jessie paused. "I seem to be talking to myself a lot lately..." she mused. "Maybe I should invest in a fish... Nah, they die too easily. A plant."

Looking at the clock, she yelped, and promptly drained the rest of the mug. Grabbing her purse, she dropped the cup in the sink and dashed out the door. She was late.

When Jessie walked through the doors, she breathed a sigh of relief. She'd made it just on time. Putting on a smile, she marched over to her desk and plopped herself down. Scooting the wheeled chair up to the desk, she checked the phone to see if any calls had come in, and then pulled the stack of mail towards her. Hello, Tuesday.

XXXXX

CM Punk looked out the window as the plane began its downward descent towards Charleston. He'd been thinking the entire flight about how he was going to find out who that woman was, and leak the news of the "affair" to the press. Even if it didn't turn out to be true, there would be at least enough publicity to move the focus off of him. Unfortunately, the news about last night had gotten out. It had hit the papers and was splashed across every WWE website. McMahon was furious, other Superstars were unhappy, and he had a feeling that suspension was imminent - right when his WWE career was about to move to the next level, if he actually got the chance to wrestle the Rock. That was a big "if," now.

But, he was stuck. He couldn't personally call in a tip about Cena, then it would seem as if he was purposefully trying to fuck over the shining star of the WWE. No, he either had to have someone else figure it out, or he had to somehow trick Cena into revealing it himself. So, what could he do? He nervously chewed on his lip ring, and the pool of anger that always seemed to be hiding somewhere in his stomach started to boil. If he didn't have to deal with such fucking idiots on a daily basis, if so many wrestling fans weren't such rude, uncouth, impolite, fucking _morons_, then he wouldn't have to defend himself and he wouldn't get so angry. But everywhere he went were the same people that insulted him on his Twitter, that acted like they knew him in public, that were too familiar, and were all-around disrespectful. He couldn't stand any of them and they made him furious. Sometimes he just couldn't control it, and last night had been one of those instances.

The plane came to a stop, and the seatbelt light switched off. Punk got up and reached above his head to pull out his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he filed out of the plane with the rest of the passengers, ignoring the looks of the people around him. McMahon would be talking to him after the show, so he needed to come up with something before then. Since it was a house show, it wouldn't be televised - just a live audience. Maybe he could find a way to grab Cena's phone for a few minutes and look through the call history. At least then he could find out how to contact that woman, whoever "that woman" was.

The next few hours passed quickly, and before Punk could even really catch his breath, he was at the arena and getting dressed for the show. The locker room was full of superstars getting ready and the sounds of their voices. It was then that Punk got the moment he was looking for. Walking by Cena's locker, he suddenly stopped and swore.

He saw Cena's head turn towards him and he heard him ask, "What's up?"

Gotcha. The champion met his eyes. "Need to make a phone call and I forgot to bring in my fucking phone." He ran a hand over his head. "Listen, can I borrow yours?"

Cena was surprised that Punk would ask him and not someone like Kofi or Bryan. But, maybe it was a good sign that the champion was more willing to be friendly towards him. "Yeah, sure man." He pulled his cell back out of the locker and handed it over. "Go for it."

Punk grunted his thanks, and walked slowly away, as he surreptitiously began to search through Cena's contacts. _Jasmine, Jenny..._ there it was. Jessie. He hit "send," and held the phone up to his ear. It rang once, twice, three times, and then...

_"Hello,"_ (There was a female voice on the other side of the line.) "_You've reached Jessie Evans. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now, but leave your name and number, and I'll call you right back!"_

For a moment, Punk froze. He'd thought about what to say, but now that it came down to it, he was uncertain. Was he really prepared to ruin the reputation of a fellow superstar and some woman he'd never met? The thought made him uncomfortable, but it was all for his career - and his career was everything to him. Wrestling was his life... And that was when the idea hit him. Quickly pressing the end button on the call before the "beep" which started the message, he pulled up the list of applications on Cena's Smartphone. Scrolling through, he found the one he was looking for - Twitter. Opening the application, he quickly began to compose a tweet.

"Jessie Evan's the best girl a guy could want, always cheers me up when I'm down, call for a good time. 740-235-5243. #hotsexymistress"

Taking a deep breath, he hit the "Tweet" button. Now that it was over, Punk felt a little sick. He'd just posted the number of some girl he didn't know on a twitter with over 3 million followers. And, on top of that, the hashtag he added was enough by itself to get people talking. But really, he just needed the bad publicity to take the heat off of him for a few days. It sounded like this girl and John were pretty close anyways - maybe there was an affair going on. Whatever the case, it would blow over like every other scandal.

Walking over again, Punk handed the phone back to Cena. "Thanks, 'appreciate it."

Cena flashed his usual charming smile. "Sure, no problem. Good luck tonight."

Punk just looked at him. "You, too." He turned and walked away, muttering under his breath, "You're going to need it more than me."

XXXXX

Jessie yawned and stretched as she walked in the door to her apartment. Kicking off her shoes, she tossed her purse on the table and slid her arms out of her coat, before hanging it up in the closet.

Glancing at the clock, she groaned. It was already 5:30?! Time to make dinner, she was starving. Pulling out some bowls and she began to toss something together. 20 minutes later it was in the oven, and she was sitting down in a squishy armchair in her living room. It was only at that moment that she had time to turn on her phone - and it was at that moment that she received a huge shock.

"39 voicemails?!" Jessie's jaw dropped. "What the hell..." Calling her voicemail, she put dialed in her password and waited. The first message started playing, from a number she was unfamiliar with.

"_Hey, so I hear I should call you for a good time. Looking forward to it baby, I'd like to _-" She pushed delete before it went any farther. The next message started to play.

"_You're a little slut, you know that? Fucking whore ruining people's marriages, you're just a gold -_" Jessie hit delete again and stared at her phone. What the hell was going on?

Playing through the other 37 messages, they were all variations of the first two. Some were obscene, some were just curious, some were outraged. It was then that she figured out the reason there weren't more was because her mailbox was full. Jessie wasn't one to cry easily, but she had tears in her eyes. (She was going to blame it on the hormones.) Somehow, all of these people had gotten her phone number and were accusing her of being a home-wrecker or a slut. But _why_?

As she was holding her cell, it rang again. Jessie looked down. The number was unknown. Her hand shaking slightly, she raised the phone to her ear and answered the call.

_"H-Hello?"_ Her voice wavered.

"_Is this Jessie?"_

"_Yes... Who is this?"_ She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. For some reason, she was really nervous, to the point of feeling sick. She hadn't felt this awful since her bouts of morning sickness.

"_Hey Jessie, this is Dave. I hear I should call you for a good time._" The man's voice on the other end of the line was slightly jeering.

"_What? Who are you? How did you get my number?" _Jessie's fear was turning into anger. Her voice rose with each question, until she was almost shouting into her phone.

"_Jesus Christ lady, why the fuck are you yelling at me? Because I'm not John Cena? I'm not good enough for you?"_ The voice sounded pissed.

"_What_? _John Cena? What the hell are you talking about?_" Jessie was getting an even worse feeling about this. How was John involved in all this? She was starting to get an idea from all the phone calls, but she couldn't believe that he would do something as foul as that.

_"He posted your number on his Twitter, said people should call you for a good time. Apparently you fucked him_._"_

Jessie went numb. She almost dropped her phone. Barely pulling herself together, she managed to get out _"That's a lie. Don't call here again."_ Before hanging up and turning her phone off. Her hand fell beside her on the couch, and her phone fell from her fingers, skittering across the carpet. What was going on? John wouldn't do something like that to her, she was certain of it. But... She needed to look.

She walked into her room, barely seeing anything. Sitting down on her bed, she reached over to her side table and picked up her laptop. Pulling it open, she logged into her account (there was the familiar twinge seeing Noah's account there as well, even through her numbness) and opened Google Chrome.

Jessie had never bothered getting a Twitter account, it seemed silly to her, and a waste of time. Not like anyone would follow her anyway, so why even worry about it? Searching for John Cena's name, she pulled up his list of Tweets - and her heart dropped. There it was, at the top of the page from less than an hour ago: "Jessie Evan's the best girl a guy could want, always cheers me up when I'm down, call for a good time. 740-235-5243. #hotsexymistress"

No. No, no, no. Jessie started to shake. This wasn't happening. Cena had not almost said point-blank that they were having an affair, she was not getting calls from random creeps and shrieking women, and her Tuesday was not going to end in disaster.

The oven timer went off in the kitchen. That's right. Too late.

XXXXX

The house show was done, John Cena was showered and ready to head back to his hotel - when he got a message that Vince McMahon wanted to see him. That was a little strange, but no really. He figured it was just some detail or some new news about an upcoming match. Things had been going well for him lately, so he wasn't concerned. Oops.

Walking up to the door of the office, he knocked on it. After a moment it opened, and Punk walked out. The WWE Champion didn't even bother nodding to Cena as he walked away. John ignored the slight, it wasn't atypical of Punk to act like that. He was a man who did what he wanted, and talked to whomever he wanted. There was no point in trying to force him otherwise, he just got angry.

"Hey Vince, what's up?" John shut the door behind him and walked over to the desk. For some reason, Mr. McMahon didn't look happy.

"John, what the hell do you think you're doing." McMahon didn't waste any time getting right to the point.

"Wait, wha-"

"You of all people understand the importance of the image of this company." Vince cut him off, not even letting him finish his question. "When we asked you to decide against divorcing Liz, you understood that. When we told you the Rock was going to beat you at Wrestlemania, you understood that. So tell me, why the hell would you go and do something like this. That tweet is trending world-wide. It's going to be all over the news! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING."

McMahon yelled slammed his fist down on the desk and jumped out of his chair, knocking it over behind him. "You've made this company a laughing stock. Do you think families are going to want their children to look up to someone like you? What you've done is inexcusable-"

"Now wait just a minute." John cut in, his voice calm but commanding. "First of all, I have no _idea_ what you're talking about, so nothing you're saying is making sense."

McMahon stared at him. "That tweet you sent out to the WWE universe."

It was John's turn to stare back. "What tweet?"

"This one!" McMahon grabbed a piece of paper and shoved it in John's face. Taking it, John read it quickly. As he stared at it, his confusion turned into shock.

"What the hell... Who did this?" He slammed the paper back down on the desk, his voice rising and taking on a dangerous tone.

"According to everyone on the internet, you did." McMahon snapped back. "I have worked too hard on your image and the image of this company for a good fuck you had to ruin it all!"

"I didn't have a good fuck with Jessie, and I sure as hell am not having an affair with her!" John was shouting now. "We're friends, we met a little while ago. I swear Vince, I did not send this tweet." John looked dead serious. "I would never jeopardize my career and the WWE, or Jessie's reputation. Someone else did this."

McMahon reached down, picked up his chair, and sat in it. Glowering at John he growled, "Well then, who did? It doesn't even matter who, it's impossible to actually prove that you didn't send it, even if we publicly deny it. This is going to turn into a shit storm."

John began to pace the room restlessly. "Has anyone contacted Jessie about this?" He asked suddenly.

"That girl?" McMahon's voice was full of contempt. "We've been trying, but her phone is off and her voicemail is full. We're looking for some other way to get in contact with her, in case there are legal repercussions."

"Legal repercussions...? You think Jessie would sue?" John paused. "No, she's not the type. Couldn't afford a lawyer anyway."

"Well, what do you know about her?" McMahon's face had gone from angry to resigned. Pulling out a piece of paper, he prepared himself to take down all the information about her.

"Her name is Jessie Evan's, she lives in Columbus, OH..." Cena paused. "She has a job working as a secretary of some church, I think. She's 25 I believe, and she's about 5 months pregnant."

Vince's pen stopped over the page. "Wait. You're telling me the girl everyone thinks is your mistress is _5 months pregnant?_" John nodded. "This couldn't get any worse if you tried..." Straightening up, he asked another question. "Is she married as well?"

"No." John snapped. "I didn't have an affair, and even if I had, I wouldn't do it with a married woman." He took a deep breath and tried to calm his voice. "She was engaged, her fiancé died a few months ago."

Vince put down his pen. "That's good enough for now. We'll find out her address and more information on her. Meanwhile, I expect you to not do any interviews, send any tweets, or do _anything_ that could possibly make this problem worse. We're going on damage control."

John nodded. He was seething inside about the entire situation and that McMahon even suspected him of sending that tweet, but the best thing to do was just walk away. Throwing open the door, he slammed it shut behind him. The first order of business - call Jessie. He hoped she was okay.

XXXXX

Punk was sitting on the couch in his bus, scrolling through Twitter. The response to "John Cena's tweet" was overwhelming. People were turning it into a huge scandal. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have posted her phone number... but that was what really made it a legitimate claim.

Punk put down his phone. He was tired, and it was time to get some sleep. He had to admit though, his ploy had worked like a charm. To avoid even more scandal with the WWE, McMahon was brushing aside his altercation in the restaurant. He wasn't facing suspension. In fact, things might even be better for him without Cena around as the golden boy. The only casualty of this war was that girl - Jessie. But from a purely utilitarian standpoint, he could still justify his actions. His suspension would make a lot of fans unhappy, more people than that girl probably knew. So it only made sense. Why hurt the many for the needs of a few?

Punk got up, and headed towards his bed at the back of the bus. CM Punk was coming to Boston.

XXXXX

Jessie was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her initial panic had worn off, and she was back to her calm, if slightly sarcastic self. She'd been thinking about it, and she had a plan. Over her lunch break on Wednesday she was going to have her cell number changed. After that, she was going to call John and find out his side of the story. And then... well, who knew?

She rolled over on her left side. At least people would be staring at her for something different now. Instead of being a young woman pregnant out of wedlock, she was a cheating, adulteress home-wrecker.

"At least I'm moving up in the world..." Jessie murmured to herself, as sleep overtook her.

XXXXX

Well, there's Chapter 3! Sorry it took a while to get out, finals week. As always, R&R please. I love feedback. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks so much everyone for the great feedback! I'm glad that this storyline is working out as well as I hoped; I've been trying to keep it as realistic as possible. Well, on with Chapter 4.

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing WWE. Also, the song lyrics at the start of every chapter are from The Steeldrivers album 'Reckless.'

_Mercy ain't got no judgment, Justice got a rag tied around her eyes_

Chapter 4:

Jessie Evans was humming as she poured herself another cup of coffee. Last night had been horrible, but she was determined to make Wednesday better. After all, it was hump day! She was going to sort out as much of this fiasco as she could, and that was all anyone could expect. Hell, she'd even gotten out of bed and ready in time.

Sipping her coffee, she gazed idly around her kitchen. It was small, obviously, as any apartment kitchen would be. A solid wooden table with four chairs was placed in the middle. She and Noah had picked it up from a yard sale, when they'd been apartment-hunting. Besides a slight wobble in one of the left legs, it was a gorgeous oak table, and they had gotten it for an incredible bargain. Old white refrigerator, old white, electric stove, white microwave. To compensate for all the lack of color, Noah hung up a few pictures in the empty wall space, they had bought light blue curtains, and the fridge was covered in colorful magnets.

The cabinets were all a light-colored wood, and there was plenty of space to store all her dishes, pots, pans, and dry food. It wasn't like she had a plethora of any of those things. Without Noah around, she hadn't felt like entertaining in months. Both of them had had close mutual friends, but after his death, she had started to drift away from them. They still talked occasionally, but Jessie was so busy trying to make ends meet and trying to take care of herself and the apartment, that she really hadn't had the time or the means to go out.

She sighed, breaking her reverie. The clock on the microwave was telling her that it was that magical time - work was calling. She rinsed out her coffee mug, and placed it in the sink. Throwing her purse on her shoulder and picking up her keys from a pegboard beside the door, she headed outside and to her car.

When Jessie got to the church, she pulled into the parking lot, locked her car, and then skipped up the front steps. Pulling out her keys, she unlocked the front door, and walked inside. She always enjoyed the church building in the morning; it was so still and quiet, and the sunbeams filtering through the stained-glass windows painted the floor with pools of colored light.

Walking down the hallway, she opened the door to the secretary's office, and plopped down into her desk chair. The first few hours passed quickly; she was just working on the monthly newsletter and getting the bulletin together. When 10:00 rolled around, the pastor of the church came in, as usual, right on time. She heard his familiar knock on her door, and looked up with a smile on her face, which faltered for a moment when she saw his expression.

"Good morning, Tom." Jessie made an attempt to look and sound cheerful again. "It's been pretty slow so far; no new messages for you."

Reverend Thomas Greene tried to smile back and failed. His expression was a mix of sadness and awkwardness, he couldn't quite manage to look cheerful. "'Morning, Jessie." His voice was deep, one of the reasons so many people crowded the pews on Sunday morning. He had a voice that sounded just as if he was enlightened with some secret, inner truth, and could put almost any person at ease. "I'm afraid we have something serious to talk about."

Tom walked into her office, and sat down in a chair across from her. "I've been getting some very troubling phone calls this morning."

Jessie's heart sank. This couldn't be about...? "What... sort of phone calls?" Her voice was unnaturally high. She swore at herself internally. So much for trying to sound nonchalant.

"Apparently there is some sort of scandal brewing with you in the middle of it. Now, you know I don't keep up with those modern things like Twitter and Facebook, so I don't understand how these sorts of things get started. But, what I do know, is that your face was on the news this morning in conjunction with some very serious allegations." Tom placed the tips of his fingers together, and peered at Jessie over the rim of his glasses.

"Oh." Her voice was quiet. "I assume you're... talking about the whole John Cena thing." Jessie didn't look up from her hands that were folded so tightly in her lap, her knuckles were turning white.

"Yes, I'm talking about your alleged affair with this John Cena person. Now I have no idea who he is-"

Jessie cut in, mumbling, "He's a world famous wrestler."

"Regardless." Tom was in administrative mode. He sat up a little taller, now looking down at Jessie's slightly bowed head. The white lights of the office brought out the red highlights in her hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail. Inwardly, his heart hurt for her. But he had a job to do. "I'm afraid that this scandal is becoming quite the public affair. Since all this information about you becoming public, it's only a matter of time before the media begins broadcasting where you work. That would certainly cast unwanted attention on this church."

Jessie stiffened. She knew exactly where this was going. The humiliation she was feeling started turning to anger and indignation. Looking up at Tom, her hazel eyes were cold. "You're firing me." It was a statement.

"I'm sorry, Jessie, but you understand that it's important this church keeps up a certain image. We're a business as much as any other, you know, and bad press can only hurt us. Having a single woman accused of adultery and promiscuity while being pregnant with another man's offspring in such a position at a church is not going to reflect well on us. I'm going to need you to be ready to leave here by the end of the week." Reverend Tom stood up. "I hope that you can understand."

Jessie's shoulders were tense, and she was having troubling keeping her voice at a normal volume. "So let me get this straight - you're firing me because I've been _accused_ of doing something which I, in fact, didn't do? You're kicking me out of a _church_? Whatever happened to being open to all kinds of people?" Her voice was starting to get louder. "How can you justify this? What-"

"Enough." Tom's voice rumbled. "Enough, Jessica. I understand your anger, and that is understandable. However, you have no right to lecture me about Christian values in my own church. I've given you a couple of days to get your affairs in order. You'll receive your final paycheck on Friday. Now please try to act professionally about this." He turned around and began to walk away. "My hands are tied on the matter," was his last comment as he walked out the door.

Jessie sat in her chair, stunned and seething. Not only was her face plastered all over the TV as some marriage-ruining slut, now she was unemployed and, unless she figured out really quickly how to get another job, homeless.

"Well, fuck." She tilted her desk chair back, and then promptly jumped as the door to her office suddenly slammed shut. She knew it was from the air pressure in the building, but it was still an interesting coincidence. Looking up at the ceiling, she snapped, "I'll swear as much as I want, thank you." The door creaked back open. "Oh, shut up."

XXXXX

John Cena was sitting in another seat on another plane, staring out the window. As McMahon had said, Jessie's phone had been turned off all night, and her voicemail was full. He hadn't slept well at all. As soon as he'd gotten the chance, he had called Liz to see how she was doing - it wasn't well. She had heard about the scandal, and was practically hysterical. Although John had apologized and sworn up and down that he had not sent that tweet, Liz had been skeptical at best. At worst, she was furious with him. And of course, as soon as he told her where he and Jessie had met, that they'd been keeping in contact, and that they'd been out to dinner, there was a whole new slew of allegations against him. Finally, Liz had dissolved in tears. The conversation had ended with John's apologies, and promises to try to fix things.

Really, the only thing that was going to be good about his day was the show in Boston that night. He could definitely look forward to a great reception there. John leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He let his mind drift, trying to figure out how and why someone would have sent that tweet from his account. He found it hard to believe that anyone had hacked into it by guessing his password, and they would have had to know about Jessie as well... But no one knew about Jessie besides him. Who the hell had done it?

John still hadn't figured it out by the time the plane taxied to a stop in Logan International Airport in Boston. He switched on his phone as soon as the seatbelt light went off, and checked to see if there were any messages. As if right on cue, his phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognize, but he hit the button to answer it anyway.

"_Hello?_"

"_John?_" His heart jumped into his throat; the voice was Jessie's. "_John, I'm sorry to call so abruptly, but-_"

John cut her off. "No! No, listen, I am so sorry, I don't know what's going on but I swear I'm going to figure this out. I'm going to fix it for you."

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "_I guess you already know what I was going to say. I should have expected that._" There was a pause. "_I had my phone number changed, so people couldn't get a hold of me anymore. I've been having some... issues with people calling._"

John's thick fingers tightened around the phone as he grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and strode off the plane. "You've had people calling you? If anyone's been causing you trouble-"

This time it was Jessie's turn to shush him. "_I've taken care of that already. John, the reason I'm calling isn't to chastise you or to yell. What's done has been done, and the only thing to do now is figure out what to do next. I'm not... I'm not sure what someone does in a position like this. Do I need to make some sort of public statement about this? Should I be speaking to a lawyer? I mean, I don't have a lawyer, but I suppose I could get one..._" Her questions drifted off into musings.

Despite his anxiety and anger, John gave a crooked smile. She seemed to be dealing with it well. Maybe, besides the harassing phone calls, of course, she was getting through this fiasco all right. It seemed like there weren't any other serious side effects of the scandal.

"I don't think that you need a lawyer just yet." He tried to make his voice calm. "Though, Vince McMahon would like to speak to you about this whole thing."

"_The head of the WWE wants to talk to me? Um, are you sure I'm not in some sort of legal trouble?_" She sounded nervous.

"Nah, if anyone is in legal trouble, it would be us. Vince is scared you're going to sue the company and make this whole thing even more of a publicity nightmare than it already is." He frowned, and the smile disappeared. "I told him you wouldn't do that."

"_Good call._" She sounded amused. "_It would certainly make for interesting headlines if I attempted to. Should I be waiting for someone to contact me?_"

"If it's all right, I'll give Vince your new number. He'll probably contact you really soon."

"_Oh, goody. I'm really meeting all the celebrities these days, aren't I?_" She sighed. "_Oh, speaking of celebrities, how are you holding up for this whole thing? I'd imagine it's causing a lot more trouble for you than it is for me._"

"The WWE is on full damage-control mode." Jessie could hear the agitation in his voice. "It's causing a lot of trouble for my image, and the image of the company. And Liz... isn't taking the scandal very well." She thought she could detect a hint of resentment.

"_I see..._" She sighed again. "_I'm sorry about all of this, John. I feel like I'm partially responsible, since I was instrumental in this whole thing. Maybe I should have been less willing to keep in touch with you. I understood your situation, but I was being selfish._"

"It's neither of our faults." John's voice became sharp. "It's the fault of whatever lying son-of-a-bitch mother fucker that did this. And when I find him, he's going to wish he'd never even thought of doing it."

Jessie laughed. "_Well, at least I have that to look forward to. Good luck with your show tonight, John. You're in Boston, right?"_

"Yeah, just got in." He was leaving the airport as he spoke that last line, he'd gotten his luggage during their conversation and was heading for a taxi. "Good to be home."

"_I'd imagine so. Let me know if there's anything I should be aware of or should be doing._"

"Sure thing. Take care, Jessie. You do the same." He hung up the phone as the taxi-driver threw his bag and luggage into the trunk, and he climbed in the back seat of the cab. His one relief in this thing was that Jessie was doing well, and this shit-storm wasn't seriously hurting her. He would have felt much more awful otherwise.

XXXXX

Within 5 hours of her phone call with John and one hour of being off of work, Vince McMahon had contacted Jessie. He was a man used to getting his way and extremely smooth-talking, and before she knew it, she had agreed to be on a plane to Connecticut on Saturday to meet with him and his lawyers. It was an all-expenses paid trip, of course, so she was getting off extremely well. But still, Connecticut? She needed to be looking for a job. She'd already started making some calls around the city, looking for anything - secretary, temp, campaign manager... The last one was a wish. She had graduated with a Bachelor's and Master's degree in Political Science a few years ago, but then Noah had happened. She'd put her career on hold for him, and they had just gotten really settled in to Columbus when he'd died and she'd gotten pregnant. Those weren't exactly the best conditions under which to sell herself; employers were often wary of pregnant women. "Pregnant" meant health care concerns, time off, and screaming babies. If anything, pregnancy was considered a job liability.

Jessie had been making dinner when McMahon himself had called. Now she was eating it, wondering what this meeting would entail while eating her spaghetti. The healthiest dish in the world? Nope. But the cheapest.

It was at that point that Jessie started to chastise herself. Leaning forward and placing her chin in her hand, she spoke to the potted plant she had bought on her way home from work that day.

"Looks like a whole new adventure, huh? Maybe I should try to sue or something, just to hold us over until I can get another job..." Though she wasn't sure if the "us" was referring to herself and the baby or herself and the plant. "Oh well." She sat back up straight. "Free vacation."

The next two days passed quickly, and before she knew it, Jessie was out of a job and in a car from the Connecticut airport, on her way to meet Vince McMahon. Her stomach was full of butterflies as she exited the vehicle, and headed into the building in front of her. Crossing the threshold, she was standing in a lobby and surrounded by WWE memorabilia. There were signed photos of wrestlers on the walls, as well as posters and pictures of the McMahons. She felt rather vaguely that she had stumbled into the palace of some great emperor, who was surrounding himself with his riches.

After looking around herself uncertainly for a few minutes, a very smartly dressed blond receptionist-sort entered the lobby from a door and approached her.

"You must be Miss Evans." The smiled she flashed was sickeningly cheerful. "We're so glad you could make it. Please come right this way, Mr. McMahon is waiting to see you." The woman smiled again. Jessie tried to keep herself from gagging. If the receptionists voice had been any sweeter, it would have given her instant diabetes.

"Thank you." Was the most civil reply she could manage to the perfectly groomed and manicured creature in front of her.

The lady smiled wider and turned around, leading the way out of the lobby and into a long hallway towards an elevator. The elevator took them (in very awkward silence) up to the top floor of the building, which housed Vince McMahon's office. It was there the receptionist left her, and Jessie nervously walked forward, before knocking timidly on the door.

When Vince opened the door and looked down, he was a little startled. The picture he had seen of Jessica Evans was an old one, so he wasn't exactly expecting the attractive young woman before him. She was wearing soft black boots that came up to her calves, and dark jeans. On her torso was a deep blue sweater that fit comfortably around her shoulders, and dipped down into a v-neck. A silver chain with a ring on it hung around her neck, and rested right below her collarbone. Chestnut hair with hints of red was parted to the side and pulled back into an elegant knot on her lower neck, with a few strands escaping and curling softly down around her face, and large hazel eyes were staring at him. He couldn't help but notice bulge around her stomach - soon she wouldn't be able to wear clothing like that.

Sticking out a big hand, Vince grinned. "You must be Jessica Evans. Pleased to meet you, I'm Vince McMahon. Please, come in."

Jessie couldn't help but notice that his voice sounded just as gravelly in person as it did on TV. Taking his hand, she shook it, trying to keep a firm handshake, but failing. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. McMahon, thank you."

As she was ushered inside, she looked up and saw with a rush of surprise and relief that she wasn't the only one in the room for that meeting. Sitting in front of the desk leaning forward with his big elbows resting on his knees was John Cena. Hearing her, he turned around and quickly, and got out of his chair. Striding over, he pulled her into a one-armed hug, which crushed the breath out of her.

Coughing a little, she managed to get out a "Hello, John." Before getting her breath back. Their "hello" was cut short once Vince sat down in front of them.

"Now, you both know why we're here," he began, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "What we need to figure out now, is how to move forward. The first order of business is to ask this." He turned towards Jessie. "Miss Evans, have you been having an affair with John Cena?"

"It's Jessie, please." She answered calmly. "And no, I have not."

"When did you first meet John Cena?"

"When John did the Make-A-Wish event in Columbus." She folded her hands in her lap and sat up a little straighter. Questions were something she could easily handle.

Vince McMahon made a note, and then went on. "When was the first time you heard of these allegations?"

Jessie frowned at the memory. "After I got home from work on Tuesday. I turned on my phone and had received a number of voicemails regarding the... affair."

Vince didn't smile at her pun. "Do you believe that John Cena posted the tweet that started this scandal?"

"No, I don't. He's said that he had nothing to do with it, and I don't think it's part of his character to do something like this." Her voice was steady, and she glanced over at John as she answered the question. She could see his jaw loosen a little, but his forehead was still creased. He look angry and... dangerous.

Vince continued. "Did you notify anyone about the post and the messages?"

"No, I didn't. I deleted the messages, turned off my phone, and checked Twitter to see what they were about. That was the first time I actually saw the post."

"All right..." Vince's comment was more to himself as he made another note. "Besides the phone calls, have you suffered any adverse effects from these allegations?"

Jessie hesitated. Saying that she had been fired from her job in front of John and the head of the WWE was embarrassing.

"Jessie, I need an answer." Vince was pushing her, and she knew that lying about it would only cause more trouble.

"Yes," she finally responded quietly. "I was fired from my job on Wednesday."

She couldn't look over at John, she didn't want to see the hurt on his face, and she certainly didn't want the pity. Pity wasn't going to help her find a new employer and some way to pay the rent; pity was only going to make her feel worse about herself. Instead, she focused on Vince's face, which had gotten even more serious.

"Why exactly were you fired?"

She swallowed hard. "I was a church secretary. The minister had received a number of calls from parishioners who were expressing... distaste that someone like me was working there." That was putting it delicately.

Vince surveyed the woman before him. Everything that Jessie had said was confirming was he was afraid of - they were open for a serious lawsuit if she so chose. He needed to do something to dissuade her from even considering that option, and fast. His lawyers had already warned him that opposing firms were looking to contact her, offering to take the case - they were all drooling over the opportunity of a huge payout. However, he could also tell that she was intelligent. He'd looked up as much about her as he could; she was well educated and had done very well in school. He didn't think it would be possible to cheat her out of anything or sell her short. Intelligent liabilities were the worst.

Putting down his pen, he leaned forward towards her across his desk. She couldn't help getting the impression that his arms and legs were too long for the desk; he looked a little awkward sitting there, like a spider with its legs spread apart.

"Miss Evans," he began.

"Jessie," she interrupted mildly.

"Jessie." The look he gave her wasn't kind; he didn't like being interrupted. "As you can see, we are in a tight spot. I, and consequently the WWE, don't believe that John sent that tweet either. Regardless, until that can be legally proven, we are open to a very serious lawsuit from you. If you chose, you could sue us for defamation of character and false allegations, and would most likely win."

Jessie nodded slowly, absorbing what he had just said. When she looked back up at him, he felt her measuring him up as well. As he'd thought - she wasn't stupid.

"However, I assume that you have a counter offer."

Vince nodded. "I would like to offer you a job, Miss Evans, as a political consultant."

Jessie's jaw dropped. She hadn't been expecting that.

John was also taken off-guard. "As a what?"

"As a political consultant." Vince leaned back in his seat. "As you may know, Miss Evans, my wife has now run twice for Congress in Connecticut, and has lost both times. I believe the reason for her repeated... failure... is this company." He hesitated on the word failure, as if it hurt him to even think it. "I know that being a Congresswoman is a dream of hers, and something that I would like as well. Since you have degrees in political science, I don't think this should be any trouble for you."

Jessie managed to pull her thoughts together. "Let me get this straight - you want me to move here, to Connecticut, to work on your wife's campaign?"

Vince laughed. "No! I want you to travel with myself and the rest of the superstars! I want you there every show to evaluate its content, and see what should and shouldn't be changed to help my wife's campaign. Obviously we won't start again for about a year or so, so that should give you plenty of time to familiarize yourself with the company and its members. Obviously there will be full healthcare included, and a generous salary."

Jessie's mind was reeling. A political consultant's job was almost too much to hope for. This would solve all her problems - her financial and medical issues, her housing issue, her career issue... The only problem was... baby.

"Mr. McMahon..." she paused. "I'm sure you know that I'm... pregnant." She hesitated on that word, as if it was painful to even think it. "Won't that be a liability to you and to my ability to work?"

Vince looked at her and smiled. However, it wasn't a kind smile, it was a businessman's smile. Or the look of a spider that had caught a fly in its trap. "Miss Evans..." his voice was light, but dangerous. "We'll deal with that when it comes. But I'm sure you know, you won't find a better job offer anywhere, especially as things are right now. And while a lawsuit is certainly an option, it won't look very good on a resume when you decide to pick up your career again. Especially since I am generous campaign benefactor."

John looked over at Jessie. He wasn't sure exactly what McMahon was insinuating, but Jessie seemed to know. Her eyes her narrowed slightly, and her posture had gotten much more tense. "I understand." Even her voice was clipped. "I suppose this is really the best option." She looked him straight in the face. "But if you hire me, I expect that you know I intend to do my job and to do it well, no matter how much you may dislike my advice and findings."

Vince nodded. He understood. "All right then, Miss Evans. I'll have the contract drawn up for you to sign by tomorrow." He stood up, and John and Jessie followed suit. "Is there anything else, before I have to get back to work?"

"Yes." She smiled sweetly. "It's Jessie." With that she inclined her head, showed herself to the door, and left.

John and Vince watched her go. "You couldn't have picked some dumb blond bitch, could you?" Vince growled at John.

"Not my type," was his response.

XXXXX

There we have it! Chapter 4. I hope you enjoyed it! Also, I'd like your feedback - I'm trying to make this as feasible a scenario as possible, under the circumstances of fandom, of course. So let me know if I'm starting to slide off track. And as always, positive feedback and criticism is appreciated! Thanks so much for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone!

As I'm sure you all noticed (at least those who are following my story), I re-uploaded chapter 4. I just took care a few typos that were hiding and that I missed. So, nothing new there. Unfortunately it sent out another update that I'd added something new... Oops.

But moving on! Here is Chapter 5.

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing WWE.

_Rich man rolls the dice, poor man pays the price._

Chapter 5:

As Jessie sat in the car riding away from the WWE headquarters, her mind was full of conflicting thoughts, and her stomach was full anxiety. In a span of about 20 minutes, she had agreed to work for an enormous, multi-billion dollar company, agreed to sell her home and live on the road, and had taken on a virtually impossible task - getting Linda McMahon elected to Congress. To tell the truth, she felt a little sick. Vince had effectively bought her silence by offering her such a position, and she (who hadn't been intending on causing legal problems for him anyway) had taken the bait and had taken advantage of the situation. But, playing games with Vince McMahon was a dangerous pastime, and she was going to have to be very careful about what she did and said from now on.

The car pulled up in front of the hotel where she was she was staying (a Holiday Inn), and let her out. Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked quickly through the sliding doors and into the lobby. The October air was getting pretty brisk; soon it would be too cold for just sweaters. Thinking about clothes reminded her of how much packing she had to do, and she groaned. Her flight home was Sunday morning, then she had two days, _two days_ to get packed and get her affairs in order. Wednesday morning she was going to be on a plane to lovely Detroit, Michigan for a Raw house show.

Jessie slid her keycard into the door, and watched as the lock clicked back and the light turned green. Opening it, she walked inside, dropped her purse on a table, and flopped down on her back on the bed. She felt a little bit of movement inside her belly - the baby was starting to be more active. No more lying on her stomach... She felt the movement again.

"Guess you think this is a bad idea too, huh?" Jessie asked , glancing down at her belly.

There was no response.

XXXXX

John Cena was in the locker room on Tuesday night, rubbing a towel over his short hair after the show. It was glaringly obvious to the other Superstars that he was in a very good mood - though they weren't sure why. A few assumed that it had something to do with Liz (they were fighting less), but no one knew the exact reason. Certainly no one would have guessed that it had to do with the new political consultant that would be meeting them tomorrow in Detroit.

If he was being honest with himself, he was a little shocked that the two of them had become so close in such a short amount of time. Part of the draw was he felt a little responsible for her. He had felt a need to look out for her when they'd first met, although it hadn't been nearly as strong as it was now. Since she was in a much worse position after the scandal, he had been afraid she wouldn't be able to take care of herself. But now that she was going to be on tour with them, he had the chance to keep an eye on her and help her with anything she needed. It wasn't fair that she was alone with no one to take care of her - he wanted to be able to help with that.

When he got back to his hotel that night, he fell into bed and right asleep. There was a lot to look forward to tomorrow - and another big show.

XXXXX

None of the Superstars had any idea what was going on when Vince McMahon called them all together for a meeting an hour before the show. They crowded together in a room back stage, filing in and either sitting on metal folding chairs or leaning back against the walls. They broke off into little groups, friends sitting near friends - Sheamus, John, and Randy Orton were on one side, Kane, Daniel Bryan, Ryback, Damien Sandow and Cody Rhodes were back in last row. Punk and Kofi Kingston were sitting in the middle, Punk leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Big Show was standing against one of the side walls. Five minutes after 6, Vince McMahon walked in, and the individual conversations being carried on around the room faded into silence.

"All right," he clapped his hands together. "Everyone here?" He looked around. "Good enough. Welcome back to Detroit!" He laughed. Almost no one else did.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight and then continued. "I've called you all together to introduce you to someone. As you know, last November, my wife once again was unable to be elected to Congress." There was annoyance in his voice. "This upcoming Congressional race will be the final time she campaigns. And, as such, we're bringing in some fresh people to be on the campaign team." He looked to the door on the side of the room, and it opened. A young woman stepped out, and walked quietly to the front of the room to stand beside Vince. No one could tell how furiously her heart was pounding, or how she could barely keep her hands from shaking.

Reaching out an arm, Vince slung it around her shoulders in a friendly manner and grinned. "I'd like you all to meet Jessica Evans, the newest member of our team! I'm hiring her as a political consultant for the upcoming election; she'll be travelling along on tour with us effective immediately."

The few murmurs that had started buzzing around the room when the WWE stars had heard her name got louder when they heard what she was going to be doing, and that she was going to be joining them for all their shows.

CM Punk stared at the woman in front of him. There was no way that she was the same Jessica Evans that he'd... Glancing over at Cena, his stomach sank. The look of pleasure on his face was enough to solidify his suspicions. That girl was the one everyone believed Cena was having an affair with. Why the fuck was she working for Vince McMahon?

As she was standing before all those men and women, Jessie felt their eyes measuring her up. She wondered what they saw - a woman too young to be taken seriously as a political consultant? Some pregnant girl? The woman who had (allegedly) fucked John Cena? There was no way to read their expressions, and it was getting harder and harder to quell the nausea that was rising up her throat.

Vince smiled widely again, and clapped her on the shoulder. The "affectionate" gesture was a little strong, and Jessie was forced to take a step forward to keep her balance. She noticed some smirks among the crowd, and the nausea got worse. Vince barked, "Now how about we let her tell you a few words about herself?" He stepped back and looked at her expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, she forced down the sickness that was threatening to overtake her, and took a step forward. "Hello everyone, it's nice to meet you." Jessie gave as pleasant a smile as possible, and then decided to just give up the pleasantries and be honest. "Though," she continued, "I'm sure that most, if not all of you, have heard of me already." She paused for a moment to gauge the reactions of her audience, and then continued. "I'm the same Jessie Evans who everyone now knows as the alleged mistress of John Cena." She heard a few people murmur in the back. "But that's not important. The reason I'm here, is Mr. McMahon hired me to travel with Raw and make suggestions how this company can better support Linda McMahon's campaign. For the next few months I'll just be observing, and getting to know you all. After that, I'll being making suggestions to Mr. McMahon about what direction I think the company should be taking."

The looks on the faces of people around here weren't exactly cheerful, and a few were downright hostile. Another few campaign years meant restrictions on what the Superstars could do, restrictions on storylines, and someone else telling them how they could and couldn't behave. Jessie sighed internally. She had her work cut out for her.

"Thank you for that Miss Evans," Vince said, effectively cutting off anything else she was going to say. "I expect all of you to do what you can to help Miss Evans with her job." What had started out as a friendly conversation suddenly turned into a demand. "That's all, you're dismissed."

Vince turned and left, as the room erupted into conversations amongst the Superstars. Jessie stood awkwardly in front of the room, feeling the stares of a number of pairs of eyes. Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she looked around for a moment, desperate, seeking some way to get out of that situation, when John walked up to her and pulled her into another one-armed hug.

"Jessie! Great to see you. Flight went okay?" He gave his trademark John Cena grin.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief. Thank god, she was saved. "Yeah, it was fine." She smiled. "It's not often I get to fly first class. Or... ever, for that matter." A slight frown graced her lips as she thought back to all the flights she had taken... not many. "Anyways, it's great to finally be in lovely, lovely Detroit, Michigan."

John laughed at the sarcasm in her voice. "Now I admit, it's not the best city-"

"Understatement." Jessie muttered.

"-but," he continued, "there are some great fans here. But how about I introduce you to some of these people?" Throwing his arm around her shoulders (which seemed to be happing a lot lately) he ushered her over to Orton, Punk, and Kofi.

Kofi was the first to stretch out a hand and introduce himself, as they chatted for a moment, Punk took the opportunity to size up Jessie. He was a little surprised she had dressed so casually for the occasion - a long, flowing deep blue skirt that almost touched the ground swirled around her legs whenever she walked, and she was wearing a deep purple long-sleeved shirt, that had a deep scoop neck. Around her neck was a silver chain with an engagement ring on it. She had pulled the sides of her hair back and pinned them at the base of her neck with a silver hair clip. Jessie was also quite pale, making her hazel eyes stand out more prominently - he couldn't tell if that was from nervousness or not. Was this really the type of woman that Cena liked? He'd always assumed they'd be blond, ultra-thin, with a perfectly sculpted body or something. Cena liked them typical - hot and boring. This pregnant, comfortably dressed woman wasn't what he was expecting. Then, before he knew it, Jessie was looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to do something. Freezing for a moment, he tried to remember what was just said to him.

Jessie noticed how uncomfortable he looked. Giving a half-smile, she tilted her head back to look up at him (God these men made her feel tiny). "Call me Jessie, please." She stretched out her hand to shake his.

Punk reached forward, and shook it. He noticed how cold her fingers were, and guessed that she was terrified. "All right then, hey Jessie."

Jessie gave an inward sigh of relief and her smiled became a little more comfortable. She'd been worried about meeting Punk because of what her job was, but it seemed like he was fine-

"I love meeting people who are going to kill my ideas and make my job more boring."

So much for that.

Jessie saw John out of the corner of her eye begin to say something to Punk, but she interrupted.

"I'm not here to make your job more difficult," she began. "I'm simply here to-"

Punk cut her off. "I didn't say you'd make my job more difficult, I said you're going to make it boring. Christ, if I'd known Vince was going to help his wife run again, I would've tried to do more shit last year." He crossed his arms and stared down at her. "Bringing politics into wrestling is a ridiculous waste of time."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Punk wasn't just opposed to her, he was being downright hostile. Jessie's mine spun furiously. But if she let him walk all over her now, she would never be able to get him to respect her later.

"All right," she began cautiously, "I understand your concern." Although she needed to be professional, she hated putting on her "business persona." It didn't fit her easygoing nature. "I'll do my best to keep things as normal as possible, within reason." She saw him open his mouth to begin to speak, and interrupted. "But you need to understand, that I have a job to do as well. If I have to step on your toes, it will only be because it was inevitable. But I expect that you'll bear with me if and when that does happen, and show me the proper respect that my position deserves."

As Punk stared at her, she smiled sweetly at him, and then more genuinely at Kofi and Orton. "It was really nice to meet all of you," Jessie said. "I'm looking forward to getting to know all of you better."

Jessie patted Cena on the arm. "I'll see you after the show." Smiling cheerfully at the Superstars she passed on the way to the door, she headed out of the room to find Vince McMahon.

"She seems nice." Kofi said out loud, to no one in particular.

Punk could feel the anger rising up in his stomach. Great. Just what he needed, someone else who knew nothing about wrestling or the WWE breathing down his neck. He nudged Kofi, said "See you in the locker room," and walked left.

Cena looked at Orton and Kofi. "That didn't go well."

XXXXXX

Jessie's curiosity led her to explore all the backstage space in the arena. She saw cameramen, make-up crews, locker rooms, offices, and tons and tons of people. But the people backstage were nothing compared to the people in the arena. When she glanced at one of the screens that showed the audience, she was floored. There had to have been at least 10,000 there, with more filing in every minute.

Vince had pretty much abandoned her to her own devices. After a few more minutes of him dictating exactly what he wanted her to do that night, he had shooed her out of his office. So, Jessie was alone, her eyes drinking in all of the sights around her.

When 7:30 hit and the show started, she slipped into one of the rooms that was fitted out with monitors for the crew backstage to watch during the performances. Planting herself quietly in a chair in the back of the room, she pulled out a clipboard and a pen from her bag. Her job for the next few weeks was merely going to be observation and familiarizing herself with Raw and it's material. Santino's music came on first, and she began jotting notes when his promo began.

One by one, the hours passed by, until 11 o'clock was drawing near. Jessie's clipboard was quickly filling up with pages of neatly written notes, thoughts, and ideas. The last match of the night was Punk vs. Ziggler, and she barely glanced up at "Cult of Personality" thundered out through the speakers. It was only when Punk began to talk, that her attention was entirely focused on the screen.

"Now as you all know, my match is scheduled to be against Dolph Ziggler tonight, a man who isn't even worth my time." The arrogant smirk on Punk's face was enough to infuriate the crowd, despite Ziggler being a heel. "But that's not the real battle tonight."

Punk paused, and then continued. "The real battle, is censorship."

Jessie felt her heart drop to her stomach. He couldn't be...

"More specifically, censorship directed at me." Punk ignored the crowd as it booed. "Yeah, that's right, the WWE is trying to shut me up, lock me down, and deprive you of the honor of hearing me speak." Pacing back and forth, he raised his voice.

"And you should be honored to hear me speak, hell, you should be honored that I even came to this cess-pool called Detroit." The shouts of the audience almost drowned out his voice.

"But I have come to Detroit, I am gracing you with my presence, and will not be silenced! I am the voice of the voiceless, and I will not let anyone, for any reason, not allow me to say or do what I want! I-"

Dolph Ziggler's music came on, effectively cutting off Punk who stared angrily at the blond Show-Off.

Backstage Jessie covered her eyes with a hand, and sighed. Apparently CM Punk wasn't taking any of this very well. On national television.

"Why did I ever agree to this..." she groaned, and then she felt a slight stirring near her stomach.

"Oh. That's right."

XXXXXX

Sorry it took so long to post Chapter 5. But here it is! Hope y'all enjoyed it. Please R&R, I love feedback.

Aeilyn


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry it's been so long since I updated! Thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate it! I won't waste time, on to the next chapter!

_Now I've been known to gamble on a long shot_

Chapter 6:

Jessie's phone buzzed on the table next to her bed. She barely had the energy to move her right arm beside her, feeling around with her fingers for the device. Finally grabbing it, she sighed as she held it above her face.

Flipping it open, she read the message - _You left fast tonight. Everything ok?_

She let the phone drop beside her, and it bounced slightly off the flowered comforter on the hotel bed. Staring at the white ceiling, she ran over in her mind the events of the day. All of her possessions were contained in one small closet of a Holiday Inn. Her clothes, her writing and research materials, bottles of vitamins, and baby books. She knew that John would only text again if she didn't answer. While she appreciated his "taking her under his wing," so to speak, she was a grown woman.

She snorted to herself. Right. She was a grown woman entirely out of her league.

Her phone buzzed again. With an exasperated look that was totally lost on the phone, she flipped it open and replied to the text. _I'm fine John, just tired. I'll see you in Milwaukee._

Shutting the phone, she turned it off.

"Time for bed."

XXXXXX

Punk sat on the couch in his tour bus, flipping through channels on the TV. As usual, he was having trouble sleeping. He had been looking forward to an upcoming year of fewer restrictions on his ideas and the opportunity to be a heel again. He knew that he didn't have a choice in the matter, since McMahon had already hired that bitch... but he could certainly make her life a living hell.

Walking to the back of the bus, he laid down on his bed and folded his hands behind his head. Staring at the ceiling, he ran through the schedule for tomorrow. It was Wednesday, and it he wasn't going to be wrestling. So, it was a day of training at the gym. Kofi and Wade Barrett were scheduled to wrestle at Main Event in Milwaukee, he would be on his way to Bloomington, IL for the house show on Thursday.

The sound of the wheels humming underneath the bus slowly began to lull him into a sense of peacefulness. The pit of anger in his stomach that so seldom calmed was reduced to dim embers. He felt sleep slowly overtaking him as he lay there. The seeds of a promo were growing in his mind, and he fell asleep to the thought of how he could undermine Jessie.

XXXXXX

Wednesday passed in a whirlwind. Jessie woke up early, threw her belongings in the trunk of her car, and started her drive towards Wisconsin. As Detroit disappeared in her rearview mirror, she idly wondered when she'd be back. Or, when she would ever be back in a familiar city. The thought was a little frightening, but she quickly pushed it out of her mind. The drive ahead of her was longer than she had expected. Since Wisconsin was just a state over from Michigan, she'd thought the drive would be short. Wrong. She'd managed, somehow, to forget that there was a rather massive lake between the two of them. And, since she hadn't gotten paid yet and the ferry across the two was expensive, she was driving to Milwaukee.

When Jessie finally did arrive, late afternoon was starting to turn into early evening. She'd received a phone call earlier from one of Vince's secretaries, informing her of her upcoming reservation at another Holiday Inn. She would have been lying if she said she didn't appreciate the effort that the McMahons were going to, to make her feel "comfortable." If that was even possible. Although, the warm feelings were quickly banished when she remembered that Vince had basically blackmailed her into taking the job. However, there was no time to think of that - she needed to eat and head off to the show.

XXXXXX

The arena in Milwaukee was only slightly smaller than the one in Detroit. Jessie wondered if she'd ever be able to get used to the 14,000 fans sitting and screaming in the arena - and this wasn't even a televised show. Watching from backstage, she ran her eyes over the signs that people were waving, picking out some of the chants and things they were screaming. Jessie was so absorbed in her thoughts, that the feeling of a hand on her should almost made her cry out.

Whipping around, she saw Kofi standing there with a look of surprise on his face. Trying to slow down her hammering heart, Jessie gave a weak smile. "Hey there. Sorry, you startled me. How are things going tonight?"

Kofi looked at the young woman before him - clipboard in her lap, hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing jeans and a sweater. Again he was surprised at who she was; she really didn't seem like Cena's type.

"Just wanted to see how you were holding up." When he saw her quizzical look, he elaborated. "After Punk's speech yesterday."

"Oh." She paused. "That."

Kofi flashed her a smile with brilliant teeth. "I know he can be a bit hard to handle. He'll get over it eventually though, just give him some time."

"You really think so, huh?" Jessie raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Something tells me CM Punk doesn't let go of grudges easily."

"How exactly do you know that?" He folded his arms over his chest and bright green shirt.

"Call it a hunch."

Outwardly, Kofi laughed and told Jessie to relax. But inwardly, he was worried. Punk was full of anger these days, and it barely took anything to set him off. He was as tightly wound as a spring, and Kofi would sometimes cringe, waiting for him to snap around someone. The accident with him attacking a fan in a restaurant had been bad enough - if it wasn't for Cena's instant scandal, he wondered if Punk would have been suspended from the roster for a while. Sometimes, Kofi thought that it had been a little _too_ convenient. With all eyes on Cena, Vince hadn't dared do anything else to cast bad press on the WWE.

"Kofi?" Jessie was looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what?" He'd been lost in his own thoughts too long, apparently.

Jessie gave a slight smile. "I asked if you'd be willing to sit down with me now, before your match, and do some chatting."

"Chatting about what?" A slightly suspicious look crossed his handsome face.

Jessie laughed good-naturedly. "Nothing concerning! I'd like to talk to as many Superstars as possible about their opinions about the WWE, their job, and the direction its going." Seeing his uncertainty, she smiled again. "And not a word of it will go past me, I promise."

"You need all that for your research?" Kofi sat down, against his better judgment. "That seems a little too in-depth."

"You'd be surprised." She leaned back into her chair. "Talking to employees is always an important part of finding out about an organization. Hearing their own ideas, and what ideas have been accepted and rejected is a way to get a very good idea of the way a campaign is going." She paused. "Or... I suppose, in this case, a company."

Kofi looked at her. "You're a campaign manager?"

"Wanted to be," she corrected mildly. "I went to school for Political Science because I wanted to get involved in politics. I had this strange idea that I could make a different in the world." She laughed, more to herself than anyone else. "Sounds silly, right?"

"I don't know about that." Kofi grinned. "Someone has to. Just because not everyone does, that doesn't mean you won't. Not many people become WWE Superstars - now you're in an entire building full of them."

"Oh, I suppose so." Jessie tilted the legs of her chair back. "God knows I never expected my career (or lack there-of) to turn in this direction. Oh well. The things we do for children. Now, what do you say we get started? I promise I'll be nice."

Kofi laughed at her. "I'm not sure I can imagine you being otherwise. Pregnant women aren't exactly intimidating."

"Clearly you haven't met enough pregnant women." She smirked. "The hormones do wonders for our temperament."

XXXXXX

Kofi left the room 20 minutes before his match was due to start. He'd spent the last hour just chatting with Jessie, letting her ask him questions about his career - how he'd gotten signed to the WWE, the parts he most enjoyed about it, if there were things he didn't enjoy, and the direction that he saw the WWE moving in. While at first the conversation had been uncomfortable, he'd quickly grown to enjoy chatting with Jessie. She was very laid-back and relaxed; if he seemed reluctant to answer her candidly she laughed or switched the question. Still, she managed to get a lot of information out of him. He wondered how Vince would feel if he knew how honestly Kofi had spoken.

Jessie was left behind, putting the finishing touches on her notes. Her mind was whirling, taking in all the information she had been given, ordering it, sorting out the important bits, and drawing conclusions. Pulling out a checklist, she looked down the page and then crossed of a name. Kofi was done - only 30 or-so more to go.

Getting up she stretched, placing her hands in the small of her back and leaning backwards. She felt her tight muscles pull and tighten in protest. God, she was stiff. Although she still wasn't showing an extreme amount, carrying a baby made her feel much larger than normal. She felt bloated and ungainly, no matter how much she tried to conceal her "condition" with loose or flowing clothing. She was constantly wondering how others must see her, especially in comparison with the beautiful women around her. Divas didn't really do much to set her mind at ease considering most of them were roughly the width of toothpicks and looked like they'd never eaten a steak in their lives.

Speaking of steak... Her stomach grumbled. Jessie sighed. "Guess we'll grab something to eat on the way back to the hotel, huh?" Her stomach rumbled again. "Who knows what weird craving I'm going to get this time..." She grabbed her purse and walked out, threading her way through the people and the work crews backstage, looking for the exit. Despite all her best efforts, Jessie couldn't get the thought of a chicken sandwich with mustard, pickles, tomatoes, ketchup, and hot sauce out of her mind.

XXXXXX

The crowd in Bloomington, Indiana went crazy as Cult of Personality hit the speakers. When the WWE Champion traced the floor and check his wrist, the thousands screamed "It's clobberin' time!" right along with him.

When Punk started to speak, the crowd fell quiet to listen. But as he talked, murmuring started, which turned into screams and then boos. CM Punk told the crowd that their idol, John Cena, wasn't worthy of their respect. After all, who should respect poor wrestlers and cowards that tweet about their conquests? And CM Punk told the crowd in Bloomington, Indiana the most scandalous news of all - that the WWE had just hired an employee that mysteriously had a name very similar to that of Cena's fling.

Backstage, there was silence. No one could believe what was coming out of Punk's mouth, least of all Vince McMahon. But, Vince was a smart man, and knew when he was cornered. Firing Punk was impossible - he was far too over and valuable an asset. Also, firing him would only continue the scandal that was already going on. Vince clenched his fist, and brought it slamming down on the desk.

CM Punk may have caught him this time; but he hadn't beaten Vince McMahon yet. Playing in the big leagues was a dangerous pastime - Punk would soon find that out.

Also backstage, Jessie Evans put her head in her hands as she heard the poison pour out of the Superstar's mouth. A sickening concoction of fear and humiliation mixed themselves in her stomach. Swallowing hard, Jessie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was going to be a long few months.

To be continued...

The next chapter will be up within the week! R&R please!

Aeilyn


End file.
